The Fish Pond

Brothers and Sisters

My kids fight. I know, shocker, right? It has been an interesting experience and study in psychology to watch my kids' relationships with one another develop.

Trout and Little Man are so close in age that Trout never remembered a time when he wasn't around. They fight from time to time, but mostly about how something or other is unfair; they are fiercely concerned about getting equal treatment, from me and BigDaddyFish, from their grandparents (and that is a whole 'nother post, since the grandparents don't treat them equally, to an egregious extent), from each other, from life. But they get along so well, most of the time, that Little Man, when questioned about his changing relationship with a girl in his class that he was going to "get married to" [totally their idea, I do think he should wait at least until middle school before considering that kind of commitment, but what do I know] who no longer likes him, he said "Too bad you can't get married to your sister."

"Which one?" I inquired. "Trout, sheesh, Mom." I can truly say that they are best friends, and that is awesome.

Nemo is too young, yet, to really have much of a relationship with any of his sibs, though he derives great delight at being a "big boy" on the few occasions when Little Man lets him into the forbidden land of his room, otherwise known as Legoland. The level of fighting really is only at the level of the bigger kids yelling because he has taken something that they didn't want him to have. Mostly, they just dote on him, and he revels in it.

The relationship between Sunny and Trout is more of a "little mother" kind of thing, because of the 5 year age difference between them. They share a room, and from time to time there are problems because Sunny gets into things that Trout wants kept sacred and won't listen when I tell her to pack away things that she doesn't want her sister getting into. There are fights about Trout's perception that Sunny gets away with a lot because she's little and cute (I simply remind Trout that she's little and cute and gets away with a lot, too, and ask her if she's aware of the influence that paid on her ability to sell hundreds of boxes of girl scout cookies). But mostly it's a bossy sort of thing, and easily remedied by reminding Trout that Sunny has a mother and doesn't need another and reminding Sunny to stay out of her sister's things.

Then there's Little Man and Sunny. Those two fight about EVERYTHING. They fight over toys. They fight over who gets to play with Trout. They fight over who gets to play with Nemo. They fight over what time bedtime is. They fight over something or other one of them wants to give they other and the other doesn't want. They fight over who needs to move out of who's way. They fight over...well, honestly, if you can think of anything in the life of a 3 or 6 year old, they fight over it.

Except.

For the better part of the last week, Little Man and Sunny have been getting along. Getting along so well, in fact, that he has been letting her sleep with him in his big-boy bed, since Sunny still only has a toddler bed and will until we move to a bigger house. They've slept snuggled up to each other, their heads slightly tilted toward each other, foreheads against each other, his arm slung over her body in a protective embrace. When awake, they have been playing, sharing toys. Last night we wouldn't let her sleep in his bed (he's been having a tougher time getting up for school so we're concerned with how well he's sleeping when she's there, though they haven't been staying up talking all night like we figured they'd do), so they sat on his bed with a huge book of Things that Go that he's "reading" to her, chapter by chapter, more like showing to her and narrating his own reports about each thing. That was enough to keep her from having a total meltdown about having to sleep in her own bed.

And that, my friends and readers who have one child and are expecting another and can't fathom how you can possibly love your new baby like you love your other child: that is what you get to witness. Not only will you love that new baby just like you love your older child, your love for the older one will grow, strengthen, deepen, as you watch that baby and your older child fall in love with each other. It's one of the greatest gifts ever.

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Been laying low a bit as I try to work through some heavy emotional and spiritual stuff right now. Please be patient and don't run away - I will be back stronger at the end, but it's hard when you're still in the trench.

Klutzes Anonymous

My mother and grandmother were well known for not being the most graceful of women, and both my sister and I have inherited that trait. Trips, stumbles, and pratfalls were not unusual in our lives, and I can't tell how many times I fell UP the open-backed stairs that we had in the house where I grew up. (HATED those things) A favorite story in our family folklore is one afternoon when my mother, grandmother, sister and I were eating lunch at the Magic Pan creperie that used to exist in Woodies Department store (both gone to the world now), and my mother had reached across the table to swat me for somesuch or other, and as she pulled her arm back across the table, she caught the straw of her pina colada (and we raise our eyebrows at wine on playdates? Puhleez) and dumped the entire thing over into her open purse. It was an amazing feat of self-control to hold in the giggles, but we knew the consequence if we didn't, so my sister and I managed to hold it together by not looking at each other and studiously perusing the menu. This is a perfect illustration of our startling tendency to be our own worst enemies in matters of grace and dignity.

So, it comes as no surprise, then, that I was brought low by a hard-crusted french roll and a terrifically sharp serrated knife. The kids were home both Monday and Tuesday this week because of the holiday and a gratuitous "in service" day tacked on top, and Tuesday Trout asked me to cut a french roll and put jelly on it for her as a snack. Our regular bread knife was in the dishwasher, so I pulled out this:

It says "Eversharp" and boy is it ever. Well, I lined it up on that french roll and pulled it one time to score the roll, and the blade kind of glanced off the roll and sliced a quarter-inch gash into the index finger of my left hand.

I dropped a rare f-bomb in hearing of my kids (only rare coming from me, of course; BigDaddyFish has no such compunction when it comes to that word) while I shoved my hand under running water, which only made the flap of skin vacillate wildly and cause more pain, which caused more swearing. Blood was gushing out of my finger while my children stared wide-eyed at their lunatic mother cursing like a sailor.

Then they sprang into action.

"Is it bleeding, Mom? Is it gushing?" Trout asked. I could merely nod. "Well, then, you need a band-aid, Mommy."

"Mom, you can have one of my Superman band-aids," chimed in Little Man.

So I was duly tended to with band-aids, curious stares into the gushing finger and resultant bloody paper towel, and kisses from Sunny to make it all better. I'd love to show you a picture, but I cannot for the life of me find the macro setting for my camera. Trust me, it isn't pretty - your stomach thanks me.

But because I have that klutz gene, there was more to come. I have since ripped it open twice, once picking Sunny up after a shower to put her on my bed, and once putting on my bra, because it is at the exact point on the side of my index finger that I use to line up the 9,000 rows of hooks and eyes needed to hold these things up. It has been quite the challenge to keep it covered, dry, and most of all away from the perma-snot Nemo is sporting as he works on getting about 6 teeth to come in at once. The sucker hurts like hell, kinda like a papercut, but with more stinging and abuse.

My grandmother and mother used to joke that they were going to form the Klutzes Anonymous club for those of us needing some lessons in preserving our dignity and possibly first aid. Who among you is brave enough to join me? What klutzy things have you done lately?

RIP, Heath Ledger

http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/Movies/01/22/heath.ledger.dead/index.html

I am sad about this. Sad because he's so young. Sad that he apparently succumbed to drugs. And sad, most of all, that Michelle Williams has to explain to her two year old daughter why she won't see her Daddy ever again.

What's in a Name

We're in Tarjay, and Sunny is clutching one of her many dolls to her chest, and I see her approach, moving slowly and smiling at my (I am biased, I know) adorable daughter, and I know what's coming.

"Hello there, little girl. That's a pretty dolly you have there. What's her name?" asks the grandmotherly woman.

"Fan-gu-la." Answers Sunny with a giggle.

The woman looks at me quizzically. "What's that, honey?"

"Sa-leee-nah." I shrug my shoulders.

"She likes to invent her own names," I venture, but the woman has already turned away, clearly wondering what's wrong with this child of mine.

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A lifetime ago, long before I had any of the kids, there was a new website launching, a website "just for women." I was having issues with my heart that hadn't been diagnosed properly, and I wanted to see what kind of medical information they had. In order to do that, I needed to sign up with a user id and password.

Well, I tried my first name, last name, my birthday, variations on that, and everything came up taken already (which I have a hugely hard time accepting, because my last name just isn't that common). So I knew I'd have to come up with something unusual, but I didn't want it to be too unusual because my brain was like a sieve even then, and I knew if it was too weird I'd never remember it. I also didn't want to give away too much about myself - I still am on the private side when it comes to what I'll reveal (Shut. Up. I am. I swear. I don't reveal as much as she does, so I'm good, right? Private. ahem.)

At that time, BigDaddyFish and I were major, major freshwater fish enthusiasts. We would still be now, if it weren't for the small people who we really don't want to drown or to tempt with all that water - imagine the mess. We lived in a fairly small 2 bedroom apartment on the third floor of a garden apartment building, and we had, at that time, 7 fish tanks.

Seven. Fish. Tanks. A couple hundred gallons of water, at least.

Filled mostly with swordtails and platties, but also some goldfish, including fancy ones, like my favorite orandas.

And we were involved in the breeding business. Ahem. Don't laugh.

I got a huge kick out of it every time our fish had babies. Swordtails and platties are live bearers, meaning they give birth just like people give birth, pushing their young out, instead of laying eggs and everything left up to chance that way. It was great fun to watch them being born, to see where the teeny fish swam off to hide from the predator big fish we didn't keep in the same tank (but, you know, fish have small brains. Especially fish smaller than my daughter's pinky toenail. So they didn't know that).

So on a goofy lark I typed in "FishyGirl" for my user id, thinking that had to be taken, too. It wasn't, and thus an online persona was born. Not as interesting as you hoped, right? But it's the truth.

But, did you know, there are more FishyGirls? Yep. Actually, there's more than one. One's an angler who lives down in Florida, and another is an artist in the UK. (at least, I think that site's devoted to their art. I might be wrong - it may just be stuff she likes, but either way - it's NOT me - I'm not into that kind of stuff). There are more, I am sure, but those are the ones that come up after me if you google FishyGirl. Several have ebay shops or cafepress shops, but none of them are me.

Anyway, I bring all of this up, because you will see a few changes coming up in the future here in The Fish Pond. I don't pretend to have any technological knowledge whatsoever, so once I can either figure out the mysteries of site hosting and related stuff myself or con my husband into it or find someone I can afford to pay to educate my lame brain, I will be making some changes on the site. I am bored with my site design and tag line, and I don't think typepad offers me the flexibility to change the site the way I want, but we'll see. I know what I want to see (I DO have design experience) I just haven't the first idea how to make it happen. I don't know a lick of HTML code. But it's time for a change.

So that's where you come in. Is there a feature that you'd like to see that would make The Fish Pond more useful for you? Easier to use? Content you'd like to see (fish pond installation? car seat tutorial? more poop stories? grammar tutorials?)? Got any bright ideas for taglines? There comes a time when we all need to grow, and I'm fast approaching this blog's second birthday, so it's time. Let me know what you think.

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Sunny will be four in less than two short months, and she has been growing in so many ways. She's discovered an interest in and talent for art, and she and Trout are taking drawing classes. At 3, I'd say I can tell what her drawings are easily without explanation a good 60% of the time, and in my experience that's amazing. She loves to sing, dance, and talk, talk, talk all day long. She never ever stops the narrative of her daily life. She also has an interest in language, both her own and others.

"Hello little girl, that's a beautiful dolly. What's her name?" asks the older lady we pass on our walk around the block.

"Mariana," she answers, with a perfect Spanish inflection complete with slightly rolled r.

"What a lovely name," responds the lady as we skip off down the sidewalk, Sunny counting her steps "Uno, dos, tres, cwatro."

Okay, she's still working on it. But she's growing up. My baby girl is no more. At least she's still Sunny. And this will still be The Fish Pond.

Because Parents are Dumber than Five Year Olds, Of Course

It appears that's what the FDA thinks of us. The FDA has decided that cold medicines are too much of a hazard for kids under 6, not just 2, and are debating whether they are safe and even effective for kids up to age 11:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/01/17/AR2008011700006.html?hpid=sec-health

What the heck is going on here? I understand not giving those medicines to kids under age 2, my pediatricians (who are wonderful) have told me from the beginning that cold medicines do nothing to help and to save my money, so I have. But no Dimetapp for my three year old? Potentially for none of my kids? What gives?

Does the FDA think all parents are so stupid that we can't safely give our kids medicines? Mistakes happen sometimes, yes, but honestly, I think more medication mistakes are made every single day in hospitals across the country than happen in two years with parents medicating their kids.

They say the medications aren't needed because the illnesses in questions are "self-limiting." WTF? Adults are allowed, nay encouraged, to take medicines to help us rest and feel better when we have colds, but we can't be responsible adults and make that same decision on behalf of our kids? When we adults get sick, we take cold medicines to help us feel well enough to function so we aren't evil grumpy grownups, so why can't we make the decision to help our kids not be evil, grumpy kids? I have to imagine that those who are making these decisions/recommendations haven't spent much time with more than one sick kid, haven't lost sleep as the kids stay up all night coughing and sneezing and blowing their noses and whimpering because they feel so awful and there's nothing anyone can do about it. A little bit of medicine to help them feel well enough to get a good night's sleep so their little bodies can heal can make a huge difference.

And do they honestly think that most of us don't know that the medicines don't HEAL anything, but rather treat the symptoms? I've grown up knowing that the Dimetapp that was prescription when I was a kid that my mother gave me when I got sick was to help me feel well enough to get some rest so my body could get better. Honestly, I've known that since I was 5 years old. They really think that an entire generation of parents isn't as smart as I was at five? Please.

When our kids get croup, we give them a steroid cough medicine to quiet their cough and help them rest so they can heal. When they get a fever, we give them a fever reducer to help them feel well enough to sleep without delirium, so they can get better. When they are teething or have an ear infection, we give them a pain reliever so they can eat and drink without pain, so their bodies can do the work needed for them to recover. I don't think any of us is under any delusions that it's anything other than a leg-up to their little immune systems, which are doing all the work of healing.

And with the advent of those little cups for dosing, and all the helpful syringes handed out by Target and other pharmacies, do they really think we don't know not to use a household spoon to dose our kids? Are they not aware that a few decades have happened since this was commonplace? I know NO ONE who does this, not even my father, or in-laws, not even my grandparents when they were alive. Not a single person. That's three generations, people, who DO NOT do this. Do you?

The FDA is apparently a bunch of asshats. I happen to like it when I can give my kids a little bit of medicine to help them feel better so their bodies can heal when they are sick, and I'm pretty sure I can do it safely - I haven't killed one of them yet. Dropped them on their heads, yes. Let them eat food off the floor, sometimes. But given too much medicine? Never. Who do I have to vote for to get the FDA out of my medicine cabinet? Off to go find a libertarian candidate who isn't insane...

Moving Along, Nothing Left to See Here

And as suddenly as it began, it is over. Nemo's fever is gone.

It was sooooo weird. He had his 12 month vaccinations last wednesday because he had an ear infection the two previous times we tried to do his shots. When he spiked a 104.2 fever late Saturday/early Sunday, I figured it was because of the shots and didn't think twice about it. But it was odd. The ibuprofen that usually works great began to wear off an hour before he could have more, and when it wasn't at full strength he was a cranky, clingy, twitchy, obviously suffering hot little mess, and the fever was HIGH. 104.8 was the highest it got, but it was a scary, scary thing to BigDaddyFish and me. Our kids have run high fevers before, but not many that high, only one where we had to put Trout in the tub to cool her down fast. Even then, she was laughing and acting fine instead of, well, sick, and Nemo has been looking like he was having a chat with Mr. Reaper. I took Nemo to the doctor on Monday, and he checked his ears and throat and cultured his throat for strep, but all looked good, so he said it was just a virus, and to watch for a downward trend, with the fever dropping to the 103s then lower, and if it didn't go down by today, then bring him back.

We gave him his last dose of medicine at 5 am yesterday morning, at which time his fever was 104.4. That morning he woke up and gesticulated wildly at our water bottles, and when we handed them over he drank as though he had been in the desert for a week without water. We had to go out because I had to take Sunny to school, so I kept him in the car and asked someone to watch him so I could run Sunny in. While she was in school (2.5 hours), I just drove around looking for a house (we now think we've decided on where we want to be. maybe. I think.) and then sat in the parking lot, where I watched Sunny's class for the 10 minutes they were on the playground and then read a book. At 11 I climbed back to take his temperature and give him his medicine, because up until that point he would get really lethargic and cranky as the medicine wore off. I felt his head, and it was...cool. Really. Absolutely normal. I grabbed my thermometer and took his temp - 98.8. No downward trend, just boom. Gone.

I thanked God and handed Nemo a handful of cheerios.

He's back to normal now, mostly, except because he nursed so much while sick he is still nursing too much for my liking, and he's refusing his cups of milk and even juice. He's not eating much, certainly nothing crunchy, but he is getting his molars (someday) and maybe his gums are hurting. I dunno. I just keep feeing him soft things. I just wish he would sleep. Cause I'm kinda tired. Four hours a night average for a week is NOT enough.

Coming up soon: How and why did I become FishyGirl? And a long overdue rant about ... girls and Legos.

104.8

That was Nemo's temperature at 2:30am. He is lethargic and needing to be held. Went to doctor. Virus. I hate viruses. I feel so helpless. So I just hold and nurse him. He slept fitfully all night and I only slept about 2 hours. Am very tired.

Cleaned up more crap this weekend - 10 more bags of clothes and crap to charity.

Am Boxtops for Education coordinator for Sunny's school. Started work on a submission this weekend and BDF helped me. We decided that the teeny tiny boxtops that you can't read should be worth more than ten cents. Fifty, at least. He cut his finger.

More later when baby is doing better.

Late to the Party, As Usual

So, yesterday was Delurking Day, or somesuch, which I wouldn't know except I checked Carmen's blog this morning, and she told me. Yesterday I spent reading, or rather, trying to read. Soccer Mom in Denial spearheaded the effort to spend a day actually reading a book, instead of blogs, instead of wasting time doing whatever else it is that eats up our time. I actually did spend a bit of time reading Home to Holly Springs, the first in the Father Tim books by acclaimed Mitford Series author Jan Karon. I loved the Mitford series and got Home to Holly Springs for Christmas; I've been looking forward to reading it since the last Mitford book came out, but so far I've been disappointed in what I'm reading. Not that it's bad, it's just that, well, Mitford always felt like home to me. I'll post a review over at Props and Pans when I'm done.

I say trying to read. I did read a couple of chapters, but mostly I did...really, I don't know what. I spent an awful lot of time in the car, running small people to and from school, babysitters, and art classes. It's hard to drive and read at the same time, though that doesn't stop a scarily large amount of DC drivers from trying just that, but I'm not one of them. The kids just ... needed me yesterday, and I needed them, too. So I spent a lot of time "managing their emotions" as BigDaddyFish would say. Mine, too.

So! Since I missed it yesterday, would you be so kind as to delurk today, please? I will try to return the favor over the next week or so by commenting on your blog. If you can't think of what to say, answer this question:

Yesterday would have been my mother's 60 birthday. That boggles my brain, especially the part where she only got a bit over half that time on earth. What do you picture doing on your 60th birthday, or if you're beyond that point (it could happen), how did you celebrate? I want a giant cake with 60 candles, enough breath to blow them out by myself, and a half-dozen grandkids to help me do it, anyway. How's about you?

Wherein the Mystery is Revealed, Plus the Winners

Okay, before I reveal the winners, I won't keep you hanging. Nemo hid the remote, and this is where I found it, Monday afternoon after I had already ordered a new one (please ignore the hideously dirty carpet that needs to be replaced, and no that's not poop or blood, just juice and dirt):

or, with the cover off:

For those of you who don't have those and don't have any idea what you are looking at, that, my friends, is the air duct, or heating vent. Nemo had thrown the damned thing down there, and I looked there, but didn't see it because it slid so far down. It remained for about 2 weeks, after which he got the cover off again and threw enough stuff down there on top of it that the cover couldn't go on. As I fished out toy after toy after shoe after toy, I kept shoving my arm down lower and lower, until I felt that damned remote, and I knew it as soon as I grabbed it, but I had already ordered the new one, and Panasonic had already shipped. My arm was into the vent all the way up to my shoulder, which was a fine sight to see, I'm sure.

So! The winner for the most creative answer was Fish-Flopper, because leaving the remote out for Santa to watch a movie is something Sunny totally would do. Would you like a Panasonic home theater remote, or an Amazon GC? I did like ALF's answer, too, but this was just too cute.

As for the others, since no one got anywhere close, I put everyone else's name in a bowl, and Sunny picked the winner - Angi. Email me with your choice of a remote or an Amazon GC; I got two remotes, so it works either way.

Thanks, everyone, so very much for playing - this was fun. Watch for more contests in the future; maybe a "Name that Photo" contest a la Pioneer Woman? That would be interesting, don't you think?

Baby Steps

8 bags of clothes, including at least 20 pairs of shoes

2 boxes of glasswear and knicky knacky things

1 toddler bike

to Salvation Army, because they have a local drop-off

=

about 250 pounds lighter (and none of it to the landfill)

Plus today I gave a bunch of plastic bottle caps and about 100 odd craft kits from Oriental Trading Company to Sunny's preschool, who were absolutely delighted to receive them. The bottle caps get used in various craft projects, and it has always bothered us that the blasted things can't be recycled when the bottles can. BigDaddyFish uses them to take water to work and brings the bottles home to recycle, but were at a loss about what to do with the caps. I am hoping to convert him to a thermos or some sort of reusable bottle in the near future, but this makes me happy in the mean time.

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Contest still open, until 5 pm today. Get your guesses in!